


Late

by UAs_Fics



Category: South Park
Genre: Depression, M/M, One-Shot, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 03:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18229391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UAs_Fics/pseuds/UAs_Fics
Summary: Stan missed their date, so Leo goes to his house to investigate.Based on a prompt from S9rko on instagram





	Late

* * *

* * *

The door was unlocked. The knob turned completely to the side with no resistance whatsoever. Leo’s stomach churned. Stan locked his door, even when he was home, so his dog, Sparky, didn’t run out into the hallway if someone opened it without him there to hold his collar.

Leo took a stealing breath before slowly pushing open the door.

It was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, which was two hours past Stan and his meet up time for their date at the park. Leo waited around, watching the ducks and their babies swim in the pond, for an hour and a half before he gave in and called. 

Stan didn’t have the best internal clock at times, as Leo had found out early in their relationship. He would show up to dates late or too early, making a joke about how his watch broke— though he didn’t wear a watch. Between them, only Leo wore one.

When Leo called, Stan’s phone went straight to voicemail. 

He tried to tell himself nothing bad happened. Stan didn’t forget, and Stan wasn’t hurt. There was a perfectly normal and safe explanation for why he didn’t show up to the date they planned two weeks ago.

Sparky raised his head from his paws when Leo walked in. His tail thumped against the carpet. Leo crouched down, scratching him behind the ears. The pooch leaned into his touch to the extent he flopped over to his side with his tongue lolling out.

“Where’s Stan, Sparky?” Leo quietly kicked the door shut behind him before standing back up. Sparky scrambled to his paws then obediently trotted down the hall. He turned and sat in the doorway to the kitchen.

Leo peeked in to see Stan staring down at a bowl at the table. A spoon and carton of opened milk sat beside the bowl.

His expression was a hybrid of tired and bored. His clothing hadn’t changed from what Leo saw him in two days ago when he walked him home from class, only now they were wrinkled and his shirt had a distinct ketchup stain on the sleeve. His hair shone with a thick layer of grease and his face remained unshaved.

He sighed, then rested the ridge of his brows against the heels of his palms.

Leo pressed his lips before raising his knuckles to knock on the wall.

Stan jumped and spun around, eyes like a criminal who had just been caught in the bank vault.

“Leo! What are you doing here?” He asked. “Our date isn't for...” He turned his head to look at the microwave clock. “Oh.”

Leo stepped into the kitchen, hands behind his back. Now that he was closer, he could see the soggy cereal inside the bowl. The milk had none of the expected condensation droplets on it. How long ago since Stan poured this?

“I came to see if you’re ok. You didn’t answer your phone,” Leo told him flatly.

Stan opened his mouth, then shut it. He looked back down at his bowl for a moment.

“Sorry, forgot to plug it in last night,” he muttered. “And sorry for missing our date. I...I lost track of time, I guess.”

His voice was flat, emotionless, and yet tired in a way that could come from either too much sleep or not enough. If there was any regret there, it was forced.

Leo came closer, his hands inching towards Stan’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked gently. 

Stan raised one shoulder before he leaned forward. His face buried itself in Leo’s stomach before his arms looped around his back, pulling him close. Leo let himself be tugged near. He leaned forward, wrapped one arm around Stan’s shoulders, then began to stroke his head.

In the same voice he used when he helped Stan save a baby bird from a house cat, Leo soothed, “It’s alright. I ain’t mad. Just tell me: Is everything alright? How are you feeling?”

Stan squeezed tighter, his fingers balling up in the fabric of his shirt.

“Nothing. I don’t feel anything,” he whispered.

Leo paused in his hair stroking. “What? That’s silly. You can’t feel nothing. It’s not possible unless your dead.”

Stan laughed a single, dry laugh. “I wish. Be happy you haven’t felt it. It’s a feeling of feeling nothing, and it’s weirdly uncomfortable at the same time.”

Leo almost pointed out that was contradictory, but held his tongue. This didn’t seem like the right time to argue how he didn’t understand. Instead, he crouched down to his knees so Stan had to rest his head on his shoulder. Stan released his grip on his shirt to press his palms against Leo’s shoulder blades.

“There, there,” Leo muttered into his ear. “It’ll be ok. You’ll feel something again soon.” 

Stan grunted in reply. He nuzzled closer. His stiff facial hair pricking somewhat uncomfortably against Leo’s exposed skin. Leo said not a word. 

As they sat hugging, Sparky trotted over. He set his jaw on Stan’s lap. He whimpered, gaining both of their attention towards his dejected face and big, attention-craving eyes.

Stan let out a noise that was either a laugh or a sob before he pulled away. With a faint smile, he patted Sparky on the head. 

“Thanks, boy.” Stan took a breath. “Leo, can you do me a favor? In that cabinet over there, there’s an orange pill bottle. Could you grab me it?”

Leo nodded and went to the cabinet Stan pointed at. Beside a plastic bottle of apple cider vinegar and a pack of Star Trek-themed bandaid sat a small, transparent, orange bottle. It was the only bottle that Leo couldn’t identify as an over the counter medication in the cabinet.

“This one?” He asked anyway, shaking it.

Stan nodded. Leo took it back over and set the bottle in Stan’s waiting hand. He grunted as he pushed down and twisted the lid open. 

While he poured a pill into his hand, he said, “I'm supposed to take these every day, but sometimes when my mood is doing well and I feel normal, I stop taking them.” He threw the pill into his mouth before taking the opened milk and washing it down. “I think I’m getting better and don’t need them, and, well, I crash.” He shook his head. “Hard.”

“Is that what happened today?” Leo asked, taking a seat. “A crash?”

A nod. “Yeah. Since I started officially dating you, I’ve been really happy, and my serotonin levels were high. Except for today when they were—” He blew a raspberry and gave a thumbs down.

Leo nodded. He wasn’t sure what ‘serotonin’ meant, though he’d heard the word before, but didn’t ask. With context clues, he figured he could make a fairly close guess. He would Google it later, regardless.

“Wish you told me,” Leo twiddled his thumbs, looking away. Stan opened his mouth, but Leo went on before he could speak, “If I knew, I could have made an emergency kit for this with all your favorite movies and snacks. I hear aromatherapy helps lift your mood too. I could bring flowers or fresh bread. We could do whatever you want if I knew what was wrong and what to do to help you.”

Stan stared at him with an unreadable expression for a long moment. Leo worried he’d said something wrong, but before he could ask, Stan set a hand over his wrist then leaned across the table to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks, Leo. I really appreciate it.”


End file.
